


Blinding Darkness

by literaryoblivion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Nemeton, Nightmares, Season/Series 03A Spoilers, Season/Series 03B Spoilers, Teen Wolf Reverse Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her sacrifice to the Nemeton to find her father, Allison’s nightmares and hallucinations become more frequent until she can’t distinguish between what’s real and what’s not. She knows it stems from the darkness around her heart that Deaton warned about, but she can’t keep it at bay.</p><p>And the darkness is blinding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blinding Darkness

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Blinding Darkness (Art Masterlist)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160426) by [tamiko_unknown (fandomdough)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomdough/pseuds/tamiko_unknown). 



> I would like to note that when I wrote this it was before any of the promos and spoilers started coming out for 3B. The only thing I had seen was Stiles's sign-language hallucination and Allison's hallucination of being with Isaac and Kate choking him. I wrote this to take place right after Season 3A as a possible start to an Allison-centric Season 3B. 
> 
> I'd like to thank my wonderful artist [tamiko_unknown](http://tamiko_unknown.livejournal.com/) for her wonderful art that inspired this story. Leave her some love [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1160426)! I'd also like to thank my betas, [Fea](http://jimmynovakisaved.tumblr.com) whose comments and suggestions and love were and are my lifeblood, and [Sophia](http://weekendship.tumblr.com) whose compliments and encouragement in regards to my writing spur me to write more.
> 
> This is part of the [Teen Wolf Reverse Bang](http://twreversebang.livejournal.com/) on LiveJournal. The LJ Masterpost can be found [here](http://twreversebang.livejournal.com/42723.html)

“Allison.”

The voice was distant, barely audible amidst the other sounds of the forest. The trees were dense, the moonlight barely piercing through the canopy to the dirt below. Allison ran towards the voice; the hammering of her own heart loud in her ears with every step. Branches whipped across her face as she brushed past them, but she ignored the stinging cuts and welts they left behind. She had to get to the voice that had called for her.

“Allison!”

The voice was louder now. She must be closer. There was pain evident in the voice this time. Even though she didn’t know how she knew, instinctively she felt that if she didn’t find this person soon, it would be too late. She ran harder, faster, faster than she thought was possible. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, her breathing growing more labored and shallow. She had to find them. She had to find _him._ Now!

“ _Allison!_ ”

Louder still, the voice—her father’s voice—rang out all around her, as if in surround sound. But that was impossible. Allison twisted and turned all around her, her hair whipping her face as she snapped her head back and forth, feeling dizzy as she spun to take in her surroundings. All she could see were more trees and brush, only this time they seemed to crowd her in closer and closer. They moved in on her and she scrambled to get out, tripping on the root of a giant stump as she tried to leave. The trees loomed over her and moved nearer still, until it was so thick that she plunged into blackness.

“Allison!”

“Dad!” she cried out this time, choking back a sob. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Where was he? How come she could hear him but see nothing? What was happening? Something was shaking her now, and she tried to move away, but the shaking grew more persistent.

“Allison! Allison! Wake up!” her dad yelled, shaking her awake. Allison sat bolt upright, taking in a huge gulp of air. She looked around, and she was in bed in her room. Her dad sat next to her on the edge of the bed, his face a picture of worry and fatigue.

“Allison, are you okay?” her dad asked, almost hesitantly.

“Yeah, yes. Yes. I’m fine,” Allison said, her voice gaining confidence after every word. Her dad gave her a look that said he knew she was lying.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should stay home today.”

“Dad, I said I’m fine. I’m going to school. I have a test today.”

“Allison… I’m worried about you.”

“Dad!” Allison snapped. “It was just a bad dream, okay? I’m fine.”

“You seem to be having a lot of bad dreams lately. Maybe you should see someone—“

“No,” Allison said, cutting him off. She tried to soften her features, put on a face that would reassure her dad, and maybe even herself. “Don’t worry. I’m okay. I’ve just been stressed is all. I’m fine, Dad. I promise.” She smiled though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Now get out so I can get ready.”

Her father nodded and got up, the concern for his daughter still evident on his face. “There’s yogurt in the fridge. You can take the car today.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Chris nodded again. “Good luck on your test. Love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye, Dad.”

Chris smiled and waved before leaving Allison’s room and shutting the door behind him.

Allison showered and got ready, grabbing her backpack and yogurt on her way out. Her father’s office door was shut when she walked by. She moved past it without knocking or saying goodbye, a little part of her relieved that she hadn’t seen him again that morning.

Not that she didn’t love her dad and his show of concern for her, but she could only take so much of the doting. She had gone to a counselor after her mother died, and it had only helped so much. She couldn’t open up to her therapist about the fact that her family was made up of werewolf hunters, which meant that she hadn’t told the therapist anything. After a few sessions and after realizing the therapist was hurting more than helping, she quit going.

She had gone to a few support groups, too, but again, they couldn’t do much, especially not after finding out the truth, that her mother’s death was definitely supernatural-related. Allison didn’t want to go to another therapist that wouldn’t be able to help her with this problem. She had her suspicions about the source of her nightmares, but they were only dreams. Dreams she could handle. They weren’t real. They were only in her head. And as long as they were in her head, they weren’t hurting anyone. She’d just need to take some sleeping pills or something, then, she’d be fine.

She _was_ _fine._

When she pulled up to the school, Isaac was already waiting for her on the curb. By the time she had parked and was locking up the car, Isaac was there, bright smile, floppy curls and all.

“Good morning,” he said before giving her a peck on the cheek.

“Morning.” She accepted Isaac’s open hand and let him lead her into the school and to her locker.

“So you ready for the test?”

Allison shrugged. “As ready as I can be. You?”

“I gave up around two AM. But, I’m sure it’ll be fine. How late were you up? Did you get any sleep?” Although he didn’t say it, the look on his face did. He was being nice by not saying Allison looked tired and drained. She decided to let Isaac think the dark circles under her eyes she had fruitlessly tried to cover with concealer were because she was cramming instead of the real reason.

"A little. Just been stressed, you know." She opened her locker to grab her books, using the door as a shield to keep her from seeing another uneasy and distrusting face sent her way. Waking up to it from her dad was enough; she didn't need another from her boyfriend.

"We're still on for tonight, yeah? It'll be a night for multiple celebrations.”

Allison's brow furrowed as she slowly closed her locker. "Multiple?"

The grin on Isaac’s face melted into a frown. “Yeah. Done with midterms… our one month anniversary…”

Her eyes widened and she refrained from hitting herself in the head, instead she covered it with a nervous giggle. “Right! Right, sorry, Isaac. I’ve just been thinking about the test and my project with Lydia, and I just… but yes. Tonight. Sounds good. I… uh, better get to English.”

Isaac nodded, “See ya in math. Don’t stress; you’ll do great.” He leaned in to give her a kiss on the lips, an intention to linger, but Allison quickly pressed her lips to his and pulled away.

“Thanks. You, too,” she called, already backing away and turning to continue in the opposite direction down the hallway.

“Yeah,” Isaac muttered. She gave him one last glance over her shoulder, and she felt a tinge of guilt as he stood looking disappointed and alone in the hallway as he stared after Allison’s retreating frame.

~

She arrived in English well before the bell was scheduled to ring, and she felt a little bad for not spending more time with Isaac. As much as she cared for him, it never felt right with him like it had with Scott. She hated herself for making that comparison, but it was true. She was trying her best to move on and appreciate her first love for what it was, her first. But, Isaac was much like Scott in a lot of ways, and it was hard not to think of Scott when she was with Isaac.

“Hey, Allison,” said Stiles, breaking her from her thoughts and looking a little worse for the wear himself.

“Hi.”

“You’re here early. Usually you’re in the hall with,” he thumbed behind himself like the person he was discussing was right outside waiting for his entrance. He wasn’t, but she knew whom he meant.

“I wanted to cram in a few more minutes of studying. I have Calc after this.”

“Oh yeah, I took that yesterday. It’s not that bad.” Stiles looked around himself and then back to Allison. He was fidgety, which wasn’t something new for him, but he had matching shadows under his eyes, and his usual grin or smirk was nowhere to be found.

“Is something wrong, Stiles?”

“Huh? Uh… yeah. No. I mean no. Why?”

Allison narrowed her eyes, searching for what Stiles wasn’t telling her. “You seem… not yourself. Different.”

“I could say the same about you,” he retorted, “but I’m not sure I’ve ever really known you well enough to know when you’re not acting like you normally do.” He raised his eyebrow in a challenge, and Allison backed off. He was being nonchalant in his comment, but she understood his hidden meaning. Allison had no right to say when Stiles wasn’t himself because Stiles didn’t consider her a friend and she shouldn’t consider him one either. And why would he if his best friend was Scott? They had been in the trenches together, sure, but that didn’t mean they were buddy-buddy now.

She glanced down at the desk between them, the one that Scott usually took. “I thought maybe,” _you were having these nightmares too, that I wasn’t completely alone in this_ , she wanted to say but didn’t. She shook her head. “Nevermind.” She met Stiles’s eyes, and he opened his mouth to say something, an apology?, but closed it when Scott came up behind him and put a hand on his back.

“Hey guys!” Scott said, a cheery tone that seemed out of place between the dour mood that Allison and Stiles shared. Sensing it, he added, “Uh… something up?”

“No,” Stiles and Allison said in unison. Scott’s eyes shifted suspiciously between them, but he didn’t comment. Stiles gave him a small grin and took his usual seat. Scott watched as Stiles sat and then looked back to Allison.

“You sure?” he asked, leaning in closer to Allison. Allison nodded and gave Scott a small smile. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” His eyes were earnest and pleading.

Sometimes she wished Scott wasn’t so nice and loyal, it would make it easier on her if she could hate him. But even though they were broken up, he still cared about her, wanted to be her friend without even the hope or pretense of them getting back together. He and Isaac were friends; he was practically Isaac’s Alpha, and yet, having his ex-girlfriend dating one of his closest friends didn’t seem to deter him from trying to make sure she was all right and protected. It was an overwhelmingly comforting thought, and it was a little too much for her morning.

“Of course,” she replied, holding back the tears that were threatening to escape. She wasn’t going to cry before English in front of Scott. There was no reason for it because she was fine.

~

English was uneventful apart from the worried glances Scott threw her and Stiles’s way every so often. It was as if he could sense that something was not right even though they had both told him otherwise. She wasn’t sure how Scott or Stiles were affected by their sacrifice to the Nemeton. Deaton had told them all they would have a darkness around their hearts, which she was positive was the reason she had the nightmares. But, Scott seemed to be handling things just fine, like he wasn’t feeling anything. Stiles, though, his face reflected the torment in her mind. But he wasn’t likely to admit that to anyone, least of all Allison.

Neither of them had talked about it since that night, and as much as Allison wanted to tell someone what was going on in her head, she didn’t. Maybe it was out of fear that she’d be thought crazy. After all, she’d been having hallucinations of her mother even before they knew about the Nemeton. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to seem weak, asking for help instead of fighting through whatever this was on her own. But mostly, it was the fear that if she told someone else, she would bring them down with her. She would infect them with the same claustrophobic, helpless feeling and have someone else trapped with her.

There were things that did help, that distracted her from the feeling. When she was with Lydia or Isaac, she didn’t feel it as strongly as she did when she was alone. She felt it even less when she was with Scott, which she thought might be because they both experienced it together. She wanted to say the same about Stiles, but he was avoiding everyone as of late. He could still be seen around Scott, but Lydia had told Allison she hadn’t talked to him lately.

That wasn’t good. Stiles might not consider her a friend at this point, but she still thought of him as one. She thought about asking Stiles again after class how he was doing, but when the bell rang, Stiles was the first one out of his seat and into the hallway. He hadn’t even waited for Scott.

Scott looked sadly after him as he stood to gather his things. Allison waited for Scott to pack up and walked with him out of the room.

“Why’d he leave so fast?” she asked.

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Beats me. He’s been acting odd lately, but whenever I ask him what’s up, he changes the subject or is just really mean about it.”

“I noticed.”

“It’s not like him. The other day he had some weird… I don’t know, episode, I guess, in Econ, and his notebook was filled with the words ‘wake up’ over and over again. He told me he thought he was asleep. But when I tried to ask him more about it, he said it was nothing.” Scott looked utterly upset, like he was watching his favorite thing in the world crumble apart in front of him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Do you have any ideas about what’s going on?” she asked if anything to get the forlorn look off of Scott’s face.

“Some. I think it has… wait. Have you… Has that happened to you, too? Like with Stiles?”

Allison paused, unsure whether or not she should tell Scott about her terrifyingly real dreams. He already seemed worried enough for Stiles, and she would only be adding to it.

“Have you?” she asked.

He stopped and turned to fully face her, searching her eyes before he answered. “Not… as bad. I… hear things that I know aren’t real, and at night—“

“You have nightmares?”

He slowly nodded and glanced down at his feet and back up to Allison. “You too, huh?”

Allison shrugged. “They’re just dreams. I know they’re not real. I’ve never… what happened to Stiles in class, that’s never happened to me.”

“Not yet,” Scott said, a foreboding statement, one that Allison didn’t need to hear, not right before her class where she would spend an hour sitting in mostly silence with nothing but scratching pencils, rustling paper, and the ticking of the clock for comfort.

“Not ever,” she said, as more of assurance to herself than Scott. “I better go. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yeah, I’ll save you and Isaac a spot. Good luck,” he said before walking past her to his next class.

She wasn’t quite sure if he meant good luck on her test or something else.

~

She made it to class just before the bell rang, and Isaac gave her a wink from across the room when she saw him. The corner of her lips curled up in return, and she took her seat a few rows over. While the teacher began passing out the tests to each row, Allison got herself situated, pulling out her pencil, eraser and calculator and concentrating on the test and nothing else. She tuned the teacher out as he reviewed his policy about cheating and how much time they had, stating that as soon as they were done and the test was turned in they could leave.

She wasn’t worried about the test; she hadn’t lied about staying up to study, and while she wasn’t like Lydia with Calculus, she managed a solid B. But as the hour ticked away she became more and more conscious of the other students around her. Muffled coughing and sniffs from someone behind her, heavy punching of buttons on a calculator, a tapping pencil, mumbling under someone’s breath. Normally she would have ignored them all, wouldn’t have even noticed with being so focused on her test. Now, though, she was hyper aware of every little sound.

The clock on the wall ticked away, a half-hour already passed. Allison stared back down at her test, doing her best to ignore the sounds. The longer she stared at her test though, the more the numbers and symbols seemed to swim and mesh on the page. Her vision blurred and tunneled, and she couldn’t distinguish between one problem and the next. She closed her eyes, shaking her head to try to clear it. The lack of restful sleep was getting to her. All she needed was a few more minutes to focus though, she was more than halfway through the test, and if she could just finish it, she could leave.

When she looked back down at her desk, it wasn’t the white paper of her test that she saw.

Instead it was a pool of deep red blood that slowly grew wider until it began dripping off the sides of her desk. She clamped her hand over her mouth to keep the startled scream from escaping. The blood seeped on to her shoes and the ground, and rather than the carpet of her classroom below her feet, it was mangled roots and dirt. And bugs. Black indistinguishable things with multiple legs were crawling all over her feet and making their way up her legs, leaving trails of blood in their wake. Then she distinctly heard a roar. She snapped her head to the left where Isaac still had his head down taking his test. He flicked his eyes up at the sound of her turning though and gave her a confused, questioning look. She slowly brought her eyes back to her desk and the blood and insects were gone, her test still waiting to be completed.

The teacher cleared his throat purposefully, and when Allison met her teacher’s eyes, he gave her a pointedly stern look and pointed down to the test in front of her. He must have seen her and Isaac. She gave him an apologetic shrug, and when he nodded and went back to his grading, Allison turned her attention reluctantly back to the test. It was still there, no sign of blood or creepy crawly things, but once was enough to freak Allison out. She quickly circled answers to the remaining questions, not caring whether or not they were the right ones.

She had to leave. She had to get out of there, get some fresh air, some water, something. The room and the noises were stifling, and she needed to be as far away from that feeling as she could.

Without a look back, she gathered her things, dropped the test on her teacher’s desk, and briskly walked out of the room. At the hallway, she ran.

And she kept running and running till she was on the other side of campus. She rushed into the restroom, throwing herself back against the wall once she was inside.

She slid to the floor and buried her head in her hands.

What was going on? What was wrong with her? Seeing the blood and bugs wasn’t because she was tired. You don’t pull an all-nighter and then start imagining blood-covered insects crawling over your legs. She’d experienced this while she was asleep, had imagined a bloody Isaac killed by her dead aunt and once by her own hand, had imagined being covered and eaten alive by thousands of beetles, but not when she was awake in the middle of the day. Scott had said Stiles saw something like this, maybe she was next, the next to have waking nightmares.

A soft knock sounded against the door. Allison wiped the tears from her eyes before speaking, her voice cracking as she did. “Yeah?”

Isaac pushed open the door an inch or two. “Can I come in?”

She rubbed her nose. “Yeah. I’m alone.” Isaac opened the door wider and sat down beside her on the floor. He didn’t say anything at first, just took her hand and linked their fingers together, rubbing small circles on her wrist with his thumb.

After a few moments, he spoke up. “Allison, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“I thought I saw… nothing. It was nothing. I’m just tired and stressed, but I’m okay. I just needed a minute.” Telling Isaac the truth wouldn’t do her any good. It would worry him more and probably make him decide to find some way to help. Allison thought she was beyond help at this point. There was nothing anyone could do. The darkness was there, and it wasn’t going away.

He squeezed her hand. “You can tell me, you know.”

She slowly lifted her head to meet Isaac’s eyes. With a faint smile she said, “I know. But, I’m fine. I promise.” If someone believed a lie hard enough, would it be a lie? Did her heartbeat still give her away?

If it did, Isaac didn’t say anything or call her out on it. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Do you want to go home? I can take you, or call your dad?”

“No. Thank you, though.”

The bell to end the period rang out in the hallway. “I better get out of here before I get caught,” said Isaac as he stood up. He held his hand out for Allison and helped her up from the floor. He started to pull her towards the door, but she resisted. “You coming?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be out in a minute. I need to freshen up,” she said, gesturing to her face.

“Okay. Do you want me to wait?”

“No, go on and get lunch. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.”

He bobbed his head in agreement and then slipped out the door, leaving Allison alone in the bathroom again. She walked over to the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. Her makeup hadn’t smeared, but her eyes were red and… empty almost. Her eyes were dull, the usual light and brightness in them gone, and she felt how hollow she was when she looked back at herself.

She gripped the edge of the sink in front of her and tried to pull herself together. She could handle this. She was strong. She was a warrior, a leader.

And _she was fine_.

~

Lunch was spent making small talk with Scott and Isaac. Stiles was there at the beginning, but he ate quickly and left, telling them he had to work on a project and needed to go to the library. He probably didn’t, but no one stopped him. Scott had seemed more worried than he had that morning when Allison finally joined them, which meant Isaac must have told him what had happened. Neither Isaac nor Scott pressed the issue, to which Allison was relieved.

After lunch, Allison had two more classes, neither of which she had with Isaac, Stiles, or Scott. Her last was with Lydia, and it wasn’t as hard to put on a smile while they discussed their project. She hadn’t seen anything else the rest of the day, no pools of blood, no insects, no dead relatives, no giant tree stumps. Perhaps it _had_ been her sleep-deprived brain playing tricks on her? A tiny part of her deep down told her that was wishful thinking, but she had to take comfort where she could. She felt her grasp on reality and sense of sanity sifting like sand through her fingers, and she was desperately clinging to as much as she could.

At the end of class, she said her goodbyes to Lydia and made her way through the throngs of students back to her locker and out to the parking lot. Isaac met up with her outside, and he walked with her to her car.

"We can postpone tonight if you're not feeling up to it. I don't mind,” Isaac said once they were clear of the crowd of students at the front of the school.

"What? No! You've had these plans for a while. You asked me a couple weeks ago to keep the date free."

"Yeah but after... Allison, it's not a big deal. We can do it next week. I'll ask Scott to switch shifts with me or something."

Allison frowned and stopped once they got to her car. "No. I want to go out. I think...it would be good, better even, if I did."

Isaac narrowed his eyes, considering. "If you're sure..."

She gave a firm nod and pulled Isaac in closer to her. "I'm sure." She leaned in and pressed her lips to his as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

He pulled back and brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "I'll pick you up at 6. Tonight will be good. I'll help you feel better. I promise." He said the last bit in a low voice with a wiggle of his eyebrow. Allison shook her head and smacked him playfully on the chest.

"I'll see you at 6 then."

"Bye."

She got into her car and waved through the windshield at Isaac, who returned her wave, as she drove by.

~

“Dad, I’m home!” She threw her keys on the small table by the door, kicking it shut on her way in. She rifled through the mail in her hand, taking out the catalogs and junk mail for her and leaving the rest in a neat pile next to the keys. There was no answer from her father. Maybe he was taking a nap? She walked straight to her room, noticing her dad’s office door slightly ajar as she passed. She tossed her mail and backpack on her bed and kicked off her shoes. She wasn’t in the mood to do homework or try to work more on her project with Lydia, so she fell back on her bed, knocking her backpack to the floor.

Today had been a long day, and she needed something to calm her down, distract her. Going on a run would help. She had enough time before her date with Isaac to go for an hour and be back to shower and get ready. With her decision made, she changed into her workout clothes and tennis shoes. Her iPod in hand and her cell phone and spare key in her pocket, she went to find her dad to tell him she was going out.

“Hey, Dad?” she called before pushing open his bedroom door. She looked around, but there was no sign of him. Maybe he’d fallen asleep in his office?

The door creaked as she opened the office door wider. “Dad? I’m going to go for a run…” Her brows furrowed as she glanced around the empty room. Panic was starting to creep into her veins as she walked further into the room. Her dad probably walked to the convenient store a few blocks over and would be back. There was nothing to worry about. She’d just call him.

She dialed his number and as it rang she could hear a faint buzzing coming from behind the desk. He must have forgotten his phone, or it fell out of his pocket and he didn’t realize it. Even though in the back of her mind something told her that wasn’t like him to do, that he always double checked he had his phone on him, she ignored it.

Cautiously, she approached the desk. On the surface, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. There were various papers strewn across it, but if her dad had been in the middle of something before he left, he wouldn’t have tried to organize it. As she got closer, the more her heart beat picked up. All of the drawers in the desk were open, and there were bullets and flare capsules strewn on the floor behind the desk. Among them was her father’s phone, the screen was on, showing two missed calls and a voicemail.

She picked up the phone and unlocked the screen. The first missed call was from Allison, and the other from an unknown number. The voicemail was from the unknown number too. Shakily she pushed play on the voicemail and put the phone up to her ear. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She didn’t know what was going on or what had happened. How was that even possible?

The voice on the message was most distinctly her own.

 _“Dad?”_ the voice, Allison’s voice, was shaky and broken, barely above a whisper. _“Dad… I … don’t know where I am… I think it’s the preserve, but… I’m trapped and, and… I think my ankle’s broken…and…”_ There was a sob. _“Please, Dad. I’m scared…. Please, come find me._ ”

“Oh god,” Allison said, dropping the phone and staggering back in a daze.

Her dad must have heard it and immediately took off looking for her, or who he thought was her. He had rushed out so fast he hadn’t even taken his phone. She had to find him. Whatever it was that had lured him out to the woods probably had _him_ trapped somewhere. She ran to the closet where her dad kept his weapons, and sure enough several were missing. Allison took her own crossbow and arrows and stuffed a few flash bulbs in her pockets. She rushed back to her room for her wallet and ran back out, swiping the keys to the car and slamming the front door, not even bothering to lock it, as she left.

~

Upon pulling up to the preserve, driving in as far as she could, she debated on whether or not to send a text to someone. Ever since the Darach fiasco and Nemeton sacrifices, they, meaning the pack and various in-the-know relatives, had started a text group for emergencies only. She had no clue where to even begin the search for her father, and she was about to go into the woods alone with unreliable cell service. She was afraid, but she wasn’t an idiot. She had to let someone know where she’d be in case something happened.  But she didn’t want to send in the cavalry. She didn’t have all the facts yet, and she wanted to find out more information herself first before alerting everyone else.

She typed out a text:

_Don’t have all the info yet, but I think something happened to my dad. From what I could find, I think he might be in the preserve. I’m heading in right now. Will call if I need help. Don’t worry I’m armed ;)_

She didn’t want to send it to everyone just yet, so she sent it to Isaac. She took a few steps and copied the message and sent it to Scott, too. Isaac would most likely tell Scott anyway, but if the message came from her first, maybe Scott wouldn’t immediately feel the need to come to her rescue. Besides, if Isaac was taking her out on a date that night, it meant that Scott was working at the clinic. He wouldn’t be able to get away, but he’d want to be in the loop since he was the alpha for the area.

Feeling a little better knowing that someone knew where she would be, she slipped her phone back in her pocket and ventured further into the trees. She strained her ears in the hopes that she could pick up something, the sound of a broken twig, breathing, footsteps, anything that would help her know where to begin her search. She wasn’t very good at tracking, and part of her wished she had told Isaac to meet her, had him use his werewolf senses to her advantage in locating her dad.

She pulled out her phone, but there were no new messages, or a signal.

Great.

After some consideration and more or less wandering in the woods, she decided to go to the one place she knew how to get to—the one place that had been haunting her dreams and now waking hours.

As she got nearer to the Nemeton, it almost felt like she was being pulled there, her steps picking up speed like she had no control over her own feet. It was like some force was causing her to gravitate towards it, like a magnet. And the closer she got, the stronger it pulled. When it was in her sights, it felt like her heart was trying to escape her chest. She panted, taking in gulps of air because she couldn’t seem to get enough. She moved forward, tried to get to a spot where she could no longer feel the pull, where the pain would subside.

Once at the tree stump, she collapsed, and only when she was at the base of it did she feel the tightness in her chest give a little, her breathing ease until she was okay enough to stand back up. She was afraid to leave the vicinity of the Nemeton. Feeling like she was having a heart attack wasn’t something she wanted to experience again so soon after the first time.

Her return to normality was short-lived though.

She could hear muffled noises and then a shout. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and it was starting to get darker.

“Allison.”

Allison had an uneasy feeling of déjà vu. It was like she was reliving her nightmare from that morning. Except this time, it wasn’t the voice she was expecting. It wasn’t a gruff, older voice; it was, however, still familiar. She could see something, someone, struggling against ropes behind a nearby tree. They weren’t far, but if she went to them would she be overwhelmed with pain?

More muffled moans.

One agonizingly slow step at a time, she moved away from the Nemeton and closer to the tied up person. There didn’t seem to be any pain the further she got away, so she stepped a little more gingerly. When she rounded the trunk, her jaw dropped.

She was staring back at herself, tied up and gagged, struggling against the ropes. And how is that… What?

“Allison!”

This time it was her father’s voice calling to her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the clone at her feet. It acted like it hadn’t even seen her though, still fighting against its restraints. Its eyes, her eyes, looked frightened, but the set of her jaw was determined.

“ _Allison!_ ”

Two voices called out her name, and both Allison and her double looked up in the direction of the sound. Her father was in front of her now, a gun cocked and ready and aimed… at Allison.

“Dad?”

“You get away from her,” he gritted out, still pointing the gun at his daughter, his real daughter. But why? Couldn’t he see that it was her? That the one tied up was just some crude copy?

“But, Dad,” she whispered after a shaky breath, taking a step closer but stopping when Chris made a motion with the gun that he would shoot if she took another step. Her father’s stance was firm and aggressive, and she knew he was serious, that whatever it was he was seeing, she seemed like a threat. But if she didn’t look like Allison, what did she look like? She looked down at herself and she was wearing a black leather jacket, which wasn’t something she had left the house wearing.

“I’m not going to say it again. Get. Away. Kate.” Her dad stepped forward, the gun still held a loft, but he was inching his way towards the Allison tied up against the tree.

Kate? Her Aunt Kate? Was that who her father was seeing when he stared at Allison? But Kate was dead. Her father had watched it happen.

Her mind was reeling. She was so confused and dizzy with trying to understand what was going on. What she was seeing couldn’t possibly be real could it? She was sure her father was mistaken somehow, under some kind of trance or spell, something that would confuse him enough to not recognize his own daughter and think she were his dead sister.

But…

Maybe it was Allison under the spell? How could she know? How could she tell? Everything seemed and felt real to her, more so than when she had dreamt that morning. She knew she heard two voices call her name just now, but her father was the only one she could see. Where had the other voice come from? Nothing made sense, and her head started throbbing with trying to concentrate and find a tiny sliver of truth and reality in this disorienting swirl of surrealism.

“Allison! Allison!”

The shouting only made her head hurt worse. It sounded like Scott, but it was her father’s mouth moving, yelling her name. She turned her head to the spot where her clone was, only she was gone, not even loose ropes left behind.

When she turned back to her father, he was gone, too. There was nothing around her but the quickly fading light, and the looming trees of the forest.

She sank to the ground and curled up, pulling her knees to her chest and dropping her head in her hands. She let out a broken sob, and after that, the tears began to flow and she couldn’t stop.

Arms wrapped around her, but she tried to shrug them off. They only wrapped around her tighter.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine,” she said like a mantra to herself.

“Allison, come on stay with me,” said a voice in her ear. Scott’s voice, Scott’s arms, Scott’s body pressed against her back, holding her close and gently rocking her. “Allison, come on. I don’t know what you saw, but you’re okay. It’s not real. I’m here.” His tone was soothing and calm, and comforting.

She gripped at his forearms, which were around her waist, and he didn’t flinch, letting her squeeze as much as she needed to, to prove to herself that he wasn’t another hallucination. She came back to herself slowly, Scott’s hold on her keeping her grounded and anchored. He continued to rock her and tell her she was all right, that her dad was okay, that Isaac had checked on him, that _everything_ was going to be fine.

With her breathing more steady and the tears subsided, Allison turned in his hold to face him. He put his hands on either side of her face, wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly in reassurance.

“Scott? What’s wrong with me?” It came out timid, and shy, barely audible to herself, but not to Scott.

“Nothing’s wrong with you. It’s… the darkness, the Nemeton. It’s not…” Scott moved his hands to her shoulders in a firm grip, his tone strong as he said, “We’re going to figure this out. We’ll get through this.”

“But what if we can’t? What if it never goes away? What do we do then?”

Scott shook his head and brought her into him in a hug. She went willingly, curling up closer and resting her head on his shoulder, her arms around his torso. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. He kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her hair with his nose. “I don’t know, but I’m here and I’m not leaving you to do this alone.”

They sat like that for a few moments, pressed in close to one another, Scott rubbing soothing strokes up and down her back. And for those few moments she felt normal again. Like she had before the ice baths and the sacrifices, before she felt an ache in her chest, before the panic-inducing nightmares and hallucinations.

She felt safe and protected, something she’d always felt with Scott, something she’d felt more with him than with anyone else really.

Scott leaned back, letting his arms relax at her sides, and Allison tamped down the feeling of loss.

“I should get you back home. I’m sure Isaac and your dad are worried about you.”

Allison nodded and watched as Scott rose to his feet, extending his hand to help her up. She brushed off the dirt and leaves from her knees and the back of her pants.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“It’s almost 8.”

She sighed. “I guess I should have canceled that date with Isaac after all.”

Scott kicked at the dirt, his head bowed. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m sure Isaac will understand. We can switch shifts tomorrow or next week—“

She cut him off with a shake of her head. “No. It’s okay… I... You don’t have to do that. I’m… not sure it’s going to happen.”

His eyes grew large, and he looked remorseful and upset, like he was the reason Allison was talking break-up, which he was but not in the way he thought. “I didn’t mean…”

“Don’t worry, Scott. It’s nothing you did or said. I just… things weren’t clicking.” She tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I should probably be talking to Isaac about this though.”

“Right, yes. I’m parked over here,” he said waving his hand to their left. Allison nodded and followed Scott. They walked in comfortable silence to his car. When they passed the Nemeton, both of them without thinking reached for the other’s hands, and continued holding hands until they stopped at the car.

Scott insisted that he drive Allison home, that he or Isaac would pick up her car later. She was too exhausted to argue, so she climbed in the passenger seat and rested her head against the window the whole ride back to her house. Scott let the silence continue, figured she wanted to rest more than talk about everything that had happened or that she had _thought_ happened.

The important thing was that her dad was safe and alive and that she was too. She was going to have to talk about what was going on in her head with her dad though, clue him into the Nemeton sacrifices and what it was doing to her and Scott and Stiles, that it was more than a beacon for the supernatural. She was going to have to talk to Isaac too, let him down gently that she didn’t want to be his girlfriend anymore, just a friend. He’d be upset at first, but she didn’t think it’d be for long.

And as for Scott… she didn’t think she was quite ready to hop aboard that train just yet. But she wasn’t entirely opposed either. She still loved Scott, didn’t think she would ever stop loving him for the rest of her life, but there were too many emotions and problems to deal with right now. Honestly, she didn’t have the capability to be with anyone romantically right now. The darkness was consuming and there wasn’t room for love in her heart even if she tried or pretended there was. She had to get things figured out and feel like herself again first. Scott was helping with that though, just his presence had eased the tension and tightness in her chest, the fog of confusion in her head. They were together as friends, united in their common trauma and goal to erase the darkness around their hearts.

But… maybe they could be something more again.

Someday.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed the fic!!! Thanks again to my wonderful artist for creating a great piece for a prompt and being willing to draw more for my story!
> 
> Come say hello and fangirl with me on my [tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com)!


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